Oh hello hello there!
It’s a nice time to write
This poem that I thought of
No need for a fright
You seem to like these
And I sure do like to please
So I thought in the shower
‘I’ll write another one then’
Maybe go on for an hour
Cause I don’t really know
How long this’ll be
It’s really just a freestyle
All about me
Maybe I’ll write a whole mile
Of good ole random ass text
Will it even have a rhyme scheme?
Say, what will be next?
Will there be any stanzas?
No, not at all
I think I’ll make a wall of words
That’s a few pages tall
This isn’t even a poem
It reads more like a rap
But it beats my alternative
Which is to go to the bathroom and
Wait, I’m not gonna say that
Fill in the blanks if you’d like
But I’m not mentioning that crap
But really though
What else should I do?
I don’t have a job
So I can’t make any dough
And I don’t want to rob
Or battle my biggest foe
Let’s face it upfront
I don’t want to do anything
No way I’d go out to hunt
An unromantic non semantic fling
Wow you really are a cunt
And boy does that sting
You won’t make it in life
You won’t make it any kinda big
Cause that’s just not you
It’s just not what you do
What do you do anyways?
Even on those good days
Sorry sorry I digress
You’re not even the one I address
When I use a second person point of view
I use it when I feel I can’t redress
My mental state when I’m feeling depressed
I can’t seem to stop it
So I might as well repress it
And sort that little part of me
Into a different little pocket
Cause at the end of the day
I just do what I have to do
Even if it means splitting myself
Into a fragment or two
I put it to good use at least
I use it as a metaphor
I use it as a cue
In each one of my writings
And even my e-mails too
Cause I’m the one I get to talk to most often
I encourage myself not to go on stopping
And say that I better not think of ever softening
This facade that I put up
As I drink from my own little
Self righteous cup
And try to stop all of the apparent hypocrisy
That’s in the the world around us
But that’s hypocritical too you see
So I might as well just not even try
Maybe locate a corner
So I can curl up and cry
Maybe locate a cliff
That I can hurl off and die
It always comes on back to that
Well I’ll just lay it straight out flat
For all of you to hear
The idea that I’d commit is
One of my greatest fears
But then again, where’s the end?
Of this poem or of this life?
Neither of which we know when
You could scroll on down
If you really wanted
You could go ahead and drown
Even in a hot tub
Death is ever present
In the end it’s all around
Would anyone care where I went?
Would my body ever even be found?
Would they gather round and weep?
Would they actually make a sound?
Would they rest their head and sleep?
Would they adorn a frown?
I won’t ever find out
Cause I don’t plan to peep
My life won’t end up being stout
It’s something I will keep
Now I’ve decided to end this impromptu poetry session
Thank you for reading, leave a comment, and peace.
Oh wait, it seems we aren’t done
I’ll continue this now, but not because it’s fun
It’s just cause I really have nothing else
My everything is dwindling
And I really wish I felt
Anything at all
Anything at all
Well even though I wrote the first bit earlier
You should still write a comment on this document
Cause honestly it’s those I kinda miss
There part of the reason I write these
They make my condition feel mint
Even if it’s not
Which happens to be a lot
They make me feel more whole
And maybe fill a hole
That I didn’t know existed
My emotions feel so twisted
All the time
These tired rhymes
Are getting kinda trite
They all feel like the same
But they are the only thing keeping me sane
It’s a parody of my life y’know
Stay within the lines
And stay within my time
And keep a kinda rhythm
And do the same rhymes
Just keep on going in the same kind of circles
And even if you stop using constant poetic literary devices consistently
Just like you keep within the rules laid down strictly and unanimously
You’ve gotta keep the beat
You cannot let it skew
Be a little bit edgy
But still follow all the rules
And do not be like all those other kids
Who hit their fucking juuls
In a desperate attempt to abstain
From all the bits of arbitrary pain
And you’d love to reach out for help
You’d love to just grasp
With your cold emotionless bitchy little shitty fingers
But what would help even do?
Nothing for you
Keep writing depricative lines
While every friend ignores the signs
But maybe they don’t ignore them
Maybe they just don’t know about it
Cause you haven’t been very clear
Look, it’s like, I don’t ever feel anything ever at all. And then when I do, it fades after a bit and there’s that ever present question of if I ever felt it.
It doesn’t just come and go, it follows a pattern. It’s the baseline mood, the standard, the factory settings.
And sometimes it’s elevated and sometimes it’s the opposite, but isn’t that everyone’s experience? I really don’t get it. I just wish that it didn’t feel like I was chasing something forever.
Maybe if I found love I’d be satisfied with my emptiness. Or maybe if I became section leader. But I don’t think that’s true. I don’t think I’d be satisfied.
But maybe it’d be different if I got someone who made me laugh and smile. Maybe if I just got someone to date, right? But god damn it would just change relations if I asked someone out.
And I don’t really want to lose anyone in the way that I did before. It really fucking sucks. I just hate it so much. I’d be satisfied with you but still wouldn’t be satisfied with me.
I dunno anymore. Human emotion is confusing. And why is it so weird if you like someone as a romantic possibility? Like whether I tell them or not, it’s still just as true.
It would just be a normal fact if I said ‘I like you’. So why do people leave me when I present that simple fact.
Also it’d be really great if I stopped keeping the same flow because this paragraph isn’t supposed to be about that.
But that was all besides the point
I guess when I wrote this I just wanted to vent
To some sort of auditory audience
But then I up and went
And spilled my thoughts out on the page
And if I really want an audience
I should test reception if I sent this online
Since I’m having all these thoughts at such a largely young age
I guess I’ll tell everyone that I’m fine
While I search for an objective
And I’m not sure what I want to achieve
But I hope this poem was effective
At making you don a smile
Cause it seems like you only do that
Every once and awhile.